


A First Time for Everything

by caswell



Series: spike and wave (an epileptic boy and his biggest fans) [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Epileptic Jeremy Heere, Gen, Hospitals, also: let will roland's jeremy wear glasses!, epileptic character - Freeform, yeah not much to say about this one i just love epileptic jeremy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 11:57:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17683007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswell/pseuds/caswell
Summary: Jeremy is diagnosed with epilepsy in the tenth grade. His story- if he has one- begins here.





	A First Time for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Epileptic Jeremy was promised, and here he is. This headcanon is very near and dear to me, as someone who's epileptic and identifies a lot with Jeremy, so it was nice to finally write for it. There will be more, whether you like it or not.  
> Also, mild TW for needles- just skip the sentence after Michael worries about being worried sick.

The first time Jeremy has a seizure, he wakes up in a stark, white hospital room and frowns up at the ceiling. The past day has been drowned in murky water; what happened? Why’s he here? He remembers wandering, lost in the school he’s been going to for years, but not much beyond that. As he tries to delve deeper into his memory, other details resurface: he remembers this room, and he remembers nearly pulling the IV out of his arm. Quick check- yes, it’s still there, thank God.  
  
“Jeremy?”  
  
At the sound of Michael’s voice, Jeremy lifts his tired head, fumbling for his glasses; he eventually finds them on the table beside his bed. “Michael? What’re you doing here?”  
  
“What am I doing in my best friend’s hospital room?” Michael rolls his eyes. “What do you think? I came here to check on you. I was worried sick.”  
  
Jeremy glances at the IV drip, the tube ending in a needle that’s inserted into a vein near his elbow. Looking like this, it’s no wonder Michael is worried. “Okay, that’s fair,” he says. There’s silence for a moment before he adds, “What… happened?”  
  
“You totally flipped out,” Michael says, “started wandering around everywhere, asking all these questions, like you didn’t know anything. I found you while I was on my way to the bathroom to take a breather. You were on another level, man.”  
  
“Well, I remember that,” Jeremy says. Good thing Michael found him before he wandered outside in the middle of the winter. “But why am I in the hospital? Was I not just dissociating out of my mind?” It’s not like it happens that often to him, he doesn’t have a dissociative disorder or anything, but with his particular cocktail of mental illnesses, it’s bound to happen sometimes.  
  
Michael shakes his head. “Nah, man. Your dad told me you’ve got epilepsy.”  
  
That’s a lot to unpack. For one thing, where is his dad? Shouldn’t he be here? Great, he’s absent as always. Secondly- “Epilepsy? That was a seizure?”  
  
Michael shrugs. “He didn’t really explain that part. You weren’t, like, on the floor spasming or anything, so it took all the doctors ages to find out.”  
  
Jeremy turns away, letting his head flop back against the pillow. “Wow. Um, alright.” So, what, he’s going to have seizures now, as if his general geekiness didn’t make him enough of an outcast? And he’d never be able to be a pilot or a surgeon- not that he wanted to be a pilot or a surgeon, but whatever, it’s the principle of the thing.  
  
Not to mention… he loves Michael dearly, and in most other situations, he’s the person who he’d want by his side, but really- where the hell is his dad? “Dad’s not at home, is he?” Jeremy mumbles, and sighs.  
  
“What? No way,” Michael says. “Give him some credit. He just stepped out to go order some pizza.”  
  
Jeremy perks up at that. “What, for real?” He chuckles, almost ashamed of himself. “I guess I kinda jumped the gun…”  
  
The sound of a door closing alerts Jeremy to his father’s presence. “You sure did,” Mr. Heere says, “but that’s alright. How’re you feeling?”  
  
Jeremy takes a deep breath in, then exhales. Physically, he feels alright- he didn’t fall and hurt himself or anything, which is nice- but he’s just had a bomb dropped on him, so that’s sorta un-fun. “I’m alright,” he settles on eventually, which is near the truth, but not quite. “I mean, all things considered.”  
  
“Yeah, I get it,” Mr. Heere says, then pauses. “Well, no, I suppose I don’t. But I’m trying.” He sits down in one of the chairs next to Jeremy’s bed and puts a hand on his; it’s embarrassing to be this tender in front of Michael, but he doesn’t seem to be judging, so Jeremy accepts the touch. “If you’re ever not okay, you let me know, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Jeremy says, and it’s not a lie. Now that he knows his father is here, everything’s okay; he just didn’t want to be left alone with the news. Still, when the hand touching gets to be too much, he looks over and makes eye contact with Michael, who gives him a quick nod.  
  
“Mr. Heere, is it okay if Jeremy and I talk alone?” he asks. “Just for a little.”  
  
“Oh, sure,” Mr. Heere says, and stands up, letting go of Jeremy’s hand. “I’ll be in the lobby if you boys need anything.”  
  
“Got it,” Jeremy and Michael say in unison.  
  
Michael scoots past Mr. Heere and takes his place in the chair, looking at Jeremy with a look in his brown eyes that he’s never seen before. Jeremy wilts under it; is this what Michael looks like when he’s worried? It’s a strange look on him. He’s not a fan.  
  
“Are you really okay?” Michael asks, and Jeremy forces himself back into the present, away from his musings.  
  
“I’m… fine,” Jeremy says after a moment’s thought. “I mean, I guess. Like… this is so weird, y’know? Yesterday morning, I was fine, and now I’ve got some… disease.”  
  
“I wouldn’t consider epilepsy a disease. It’s more like a syndrome.”  
  
Jeremy rolls his eyes, though he’s not that annoyed. Missing the point is typical for Michael, and it’s not exactly as if he expected him to empathize. Just listening is fine. “Okay, fine, a syndrome. It’s just, y’know, I’d rather not… have it.” The color- what little there is- drains from his face as something occurs to him. “Wait, that trip to Jamaica your moms wanted to take us on- I won’t be able to go scuba diving…” Okay, that one gets to him a little. He’s always loved going to aquariums and seeing all the fish, and he was super looking forward to being able to swim with them, but he’s pretty sure epileptic people can’t scuba dive.  
  
Michael takes Jeremy’s hand, and Jeremy finds that it’s more comfortable than his father’s touch. “It’s okay, man,” he says. “There’s plenty of other things to do there. And we can always go to aquariums around here. There’s that really cool one in Green Brook, remember?”  
  
“Yeah, but…” Jeremy sighs, looks away. “It’s not the same, y’know? Ugh, this just… complicates so much. I’m gonna have to take meds, which will affect my anxiety and depression meds, so they’ll have to mess around with those, too, and I hate being treated like a guinea pig.”  
  
Michael’s grip tightens around Jeremy’s hand, and Jeremy finds that the weight on his chest lightens a bit as he does. “I get it, man, I really do,” Michael says. “They had to mess around with my anxiety meds when they gave me mine for ADHD, too.”  
  
“It sucks! This whole thing sucks.” Jeremy sighs. “But… I mean, I guess it’s okay. It’s not gonna kill me.” He bites the inside of his cheek until he can’t stand it anymore. There, he has control over one thing: his own actions. “Hey, do you think cats can be epilepsy service animals?”  
  
“Y’know, I’d look it up, but they say my phone interferes with their machinery,” Michael says, a note of regret in his voice. “But once I’m home, I’ll look it up and get back to you, okay? I’ve already been doing my research.”  
  
Jeremy gives a lopsided smile, his first since he woke up. “You’ve really been doing research? How come?”  
  
“Well, if you’re going to have this fancy new diagnosis, I should at least do my part to, I dunno, help you,” Michael says. “Um, like, did you know that there are a lot of scholarships that go to epileptic people? So, maybe next year you can apply for some of them. Rider is, like, hella expensive.”  
  
Jeremy groans, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. “Uuuugh, don’t remind me.”  
  
“No, this is awesome!” Michael says. “You could totally win one of those scholarships, dude.”  
  
“Right.” Jeremy’s grades are average at best, maybe one A per semester; still, it can’t hurt to try, he supposes. He’s about to ask what other info Michael is dug up when he’s cut off by a yawn. A weight settles in his chest, not the weight of a secret or of bad news, but of simple fatigue. “God, I’m tired,” he mutters.  
  
“Do you want me to leave?” Michael asks, taking his hand off of Jeremy’s so he can smooth down his bedhead, though Jeremy’s not sure why, since he’ll have it again in a few minutes.  
  
He nods. “Just wake me up when the pizza gets here, okay?”  
”  
With a nod, Michael smiles that bright smile of his at him, and it warms Jeremy’s heart; maybe he could be okay with this with his best friend and his father by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love you!  
> Come hang out with me on my Tumblr, thecicadasong, if you'd like.  
> If you're interested in more epileptic Jeremy, check out epilepticjeremy on tumblr!


End file.
